07.Feb.12, 12:52 AM
Kerrin had decided: he was officially going to kill that stupid, cocky, drastically important information-witholding bluerider.
It hadn't taken much effort on his part to determine R'nd's current whereabouts; all he'd had to do was ask his father's brown, Zhiranth, to seek out Ayyonth. It was a common request on the boy's part, and the brown - despite his having learned from his rider to regard his son's motivations with suspicion at all times - had no reservations divulging the fact that the blue was currently enjoying a swim at the lake. Unfortunately that presented another problem: how the heck was he going to get there in order to do the killing? Here Zhiranth had come to the rescue once again, for Kerrin had managed to wheedle from his father a few minutes of the dragon's time - ostensibly to take their laundry down to the lakeside for a wash, one of the few chores the clothing-conscious teen was willing to volunteer himself for.
And though he knew his father very much frowned upon the boy going between on a dragon that was not his - regardless of how careful Zhiranth always was, and how unusually close the mental bond between the two though the brown was not his lifemate - Kerrin was in a sharding hurry, and he hadn't even bothered to fully tighten the great beast's riding straps before directing him to the lakeside they both knew so well. The dragon, as utterly unconcerned by all the small details of human affairs as he was, failed to notice the laundry bag left lying forgotten at his feet as he launched him into the air and, a few great wing-beats later, disappeared.
Naturally Kerrin did not go between as often as Katila's full-fledged riders, but every time he did he was always reminded of civilian clothing's woeful inadequacy in its freezing cold blackness. Shards, he would have riding leathers if he had to make them himself! So what if he didn't have a dragon yet?! Three heartbeats later and Kerrin was already in a fouler mood than when he'd left, even with the hot Southern sun warming his back rapidly enough to make his heavy jacket - one which he owned for the sole purpose of dragon-rides, in fact - nearly stifling in the short time that it took Zhiranth to glide gracefully to the shore, his serene mood mercifully unaffected by his young charge's fuming.
I will return to work. Ayyonth will take you home, the brown addressed Kerrin as he hurriedly scrambled out of Zhiranth's straps and half-slid, half leaped from the dragon's politely extended leg. Zhiranth knew only that the blue seemed to like the boy and usually needed only to be asked for the courtesy of a ride; Kerrin only nodded and patted the beast's foreleg in thanks as he always did, carefully mentioning nothing of the fact that his friend's dragon would probably squish him after he'd murdered his friend. He managed to hold his composure quite admirably in fact, until Zhiranth had launched himself into the air again, finally disappearing over the lake's shimmering waters.
Then he whirled upon the bluerider's general direction.
"RAND!!" Kerrin shouted, throwing off his jacket and shaking a fist at the rider, who surely already knew what had brought the obvious perturbed teenager to meet him. "Why didn't you tell me it was G'rem?!"
It hadn't taken much effort on his part to determine R'nd's current whereabouts; all he'd had to do was ask his father's brown, Zhiranth, to seek out Ayyonth. It was a common request on the boy's part, and the brown - despite his having learned from his rider to regard his son's motivations with suspicion at all times - had no reservations divulging the fact that the blue was currently enjoying a swim at the lake. Unfortunately that presented another problem: how the heck was he going to get there in order to do the killing? Here Zhiranth had come to the rescue once again, for Kerrin had managed to wheedle from his father a few minutes of the dragon's time - ostensibly to take their laundry down to the lakeside for a wash, one of the few chores the clothing-conscious teen was willing to volunteer himself for.
And though he knew his father very much frowned upon the boy going between on a dragon that was not his - regardless of how careful Zhiranth always was, and how unusually close the mental bond between the two though the brown was not his lifemate - Kerrin was in a sharding hurry, and he hadn't even bothered to fully tighten the great beast's riding straps before directing him to the lakeside they both knew so well. The dragon, as utterly unconcerned by all the small details of human affairs as he was, failed to notice the laundry bag left lying forgotten at his feet as he launched him into the air and, a few great wing-beats later, disappeared.
Naturally Kerrin did not go between as often as Katila's full-fledged riders, but every time he did he was always reminded of civilian clothing's woeful inadequacy in its freezing cold blackness. Shards, he would have riding leathers if he had to make them himself! So what if he didn't have a dragon yet?! Three heartbeats later and Kerrin was already in a fouler mood than when he'd left, even with the hot Southern sun warming his back rapidly enough to make his heavy jacket - one which he owned for the sole purpose of dragon-rides, in fact - nearly stifling in the short time that it took Zhiranth to glide gracefully to the shore, his serene mood mercifully unaffected by his young charge's fuming.
I will return to work. Ayyonth will take you home, the brown addressed Kerrin as he hurriedly scrambled out of Zhiranth's straps and half-slid, half leaped from the dragon's politely extended leg. Zhiranth knew only that the blue seemed to like the boy and usually needed only to be asked for the courtesy of a ride; Kerrin only nodded and patted the beast's foreleg in thanks as he always did, carefully mentioning nothing of the fact that his friend's dragon would probably squish him after he'd murdered his friend. He managed to hold his composure quite admirably in fact, until Zhiranth had launched himself into the air again, finally disappearing over the lake's shimmering waters.
Then he whirled upon the bluerider's general direction.
"RAND!!" Kerrin shouted, throwing off his jacket and shaking a fist at the rider, who surely already knew what had brought the obvious perturbed teenager to meet him. "Why didn't you tell me it was G'rem?!"